DualFaced Entities
by Amatou
Summary: She was one of those people who flash by every day, never to be remembered by most people - and that, perhaps, is how it should and ought to remain. OC, Izaya. No pairings.


In the day-to-day monotony that is life (Life! Glorious life!) there is always the person, that one person that manages to puncture a hole through the grey film that is normalcy and look for something greater.

But she was not that person.

She was – what was she? A high school student, once. A happy person, once. A dreamer…once. But her dreams had been snatched away by the least likely culprit, whom some would deem the most likely – but that didn't matter anymore. Such arguments had little influence on her current status.

She had been in love, once. Or at least what she thought was love. And her life with her loved one had morphed into a terrible dream, a nightmare from which she hoped she would awaken but knew inside that she never would. And here she was, young, seventeen, with someone else's child inside her and toiling away at jobs that paid very little, very little indeed. Her parents would have nothing to do with her soon, so she needed to save up money. And that was how Fate, cruel Fate with a smile like shards of ice, found her, dressed in baggy clothing trying to hided the monster inside her and drying dishes in the backroom of a filthy restaurant.

"How would you like to escape?"

She had stared up at him with luminous eyes, eyes surrounded by wrinkles and underscored by tired bags. "What on earth do you mean?" What was he? He didn't belong here. The simplistic sleekness of his black clothing stood in awkward contrast to the grey of the kitchen workers. She had known people like that once, before the sharpened golden arrows from Heaven's gate blinded her.

"I mean as I say." He closed his eyes, letting the harsh light illuminate the fine contours of his face. "How would you like to escape? Escape from this pitiable state, from this eternity you have condemned yourself to…you have a choice, you know."

"I don't." She turned back to the dishes, wiping them with the self-hate that flared within. "I don't have a choice."

"What about the after?" His eyes were open, though barely. "The beyond, the here-on-after -"

"And who are you, a complete stranger, to discuss such things with me?" Her voice was sharper than she liked it to be. "What -"

"I'll see you on the roof at school tomorrow, I think." The silkiness had faded from his tone. "Or maybe not."

Predicable as she was, the girl was indeed on the rooftop the next day – not out of curiosity, but out of hope. Hope was the last thing she would receive.

Her school was merely a normal school, not prestigious like Raira Academy – a completely unremarkable facility in the city, which was unique to begin with. The rooftop was high; higher than she thought a normal roof in this sector of town should be – although she didn't design the building.

"I do love weather like this." The man in black – ha, man in black! – was there again, leaning over the wire fence into the wind. "Cloudy, not too sunny. The sun isn't good for my complexion, you know."

She kept her eyes down. The school uniform was growing tight over her belly – that would have to be amended.

"Anyways, back to our previous conversation." He sat down, back against the concrete. "You have a choice to escape your current predicament."

"How would you know?" She hugged her arms around her abdomen unconsciously. "How would you know about…about my siutation?"

He ignored her and went on. "You have a lot of choices. You could do away with the problem, or you could do away with everything. It's all laid out in front of you. Of course, you could just walk away and forget that this conversation ever happened…but will you?"

He was not presented with an answer.

"There's you, and then there's it, and then there's him." He held up three slender fingers. "And you could rid yourself of any of those and you'd be free, free to begin anew. Well, perhaps not. If you rid yourself of the third not much would change, and if you rid yourself of the second perhaps something would change, and of course the first…"

She listened to his talk with wide eyes, unaware that she had backed closer and closer to the fence. "What are you saying?"

"I mean what I say. I don't lie." (And smiled.)

"So what do you suggest I do?" The hand on her abdomen tightened, clenched until the knuckles were a blinding white.

"What do you think you should do?"

"I…" She threw herself against the fence now, trying to back away from him and evade the terrible choice, and the rusted wire groaned and bent under her weight. "I don't -"

With a screech, the wires bent and snapped, and she fell, tumbling backwards with her hair blown upward by the rushing wind, as the ground surged up to meet her, down, down, down –

"She didn't scream," murmured the man.

(And a slow smile spread over his face, glinting like slivers of ice.)

* * *

(GOD THESE LINE BREAKS FAIL)

Completely off-topic, but both my statistics and precalculus teacher (and the whole math department) is selling pencils for five dollars each. This is so they don't have to write receipts for donations. Ingenious. As for the one-shot, I met a lot of people this summer who liked to debate the good and bad side of abortion, so this was inspired by their heated debates - and also, I was listening to Ura-Omote Lovers on loop while writing this. It's an interesting song, if you like to try new things. :D


End file.
